The French Chap
by janeway24
Summary: My attempt to fill a medical play request on the famous kinkmeme. Maybe pre-slash. This is my first Holmes fanfic, so please be gentle. Based on Ritchie's 2009 characters.


"I'm almost sure I will regret this but I'm afraid I will have to ask you for a favour, Holmes", Watson said, limping into what was theoretically their sitting room but which Holmes had more or less monopolized with what he called his scientific experiments.

Holmes barely glanced up from the 1888 edition of 'Who is Who' he was reading, sitting cross-legged on the floor. "And what's that, old boy?"

Sighing, Watson sank into an unoccupied chair and sat his bag with his medical supplies down next to him. He regarded his distracted friend for a moment. "Holmes. Could I have your attention? It is a rather... delicate matter."

Holmes rolled his eyes and theatrically threw his book in the general direction of the bookshelf. He reached for his pipe. "What kind of medical procedure do you need my help with"? he asked smugly.

Watson wasn't impressed. "Oh, very clever, Holmes. I brought my bag and you," he waved his arm at Holmes, "seem to be in adequate physical health for once. Lestrade could have deduced that."

Holmes just smirked, lighting his pipe with a match he struck on his shoe.

„As you may recall," Watson began, „I accompanied you to that small chicken farm outside of Bradshire on the Bennington case last week. As you may further recall, I was subsequently bitten by the dog which was originally set on you!" Watson made sure to lace his voice with a gracious amount of blame.

„Is there a point to this or do you merely wish to take a walk down memory lane?" Holmes asked, clearly in the first stages of severe boredom.

„There is if you would kindly let me finish," Watson spat and Holmes raised a hand in apology and motioned for him to continue. „Yesterday morning I discovered that there have been numerous reported cases of rabies in this area."

Holmes eyes widened momentarily but it was long enough for Watson to find genuine concern in them. He allowed himself a small smile. „However, I managed to procure a dose of the new vaccine for that particular disease. You might have read about it."

If Holmes was relieved by this news, he once again didn't show it. „Right. That French chap, correct?"

„Yes, Holmes. That 'French chap', also known as 'Pasteur'," Watson replied, shaking his head. „Be that as it may, I require your assistance in administering the vaccine." Watson bent forward and removed his injection kit and a vile filled with a milky substance from his medical bag.

„I thought it was a simple injection, no?" Holmes said. He rose fluently to his feed and came closer, his curiosity now piqued.

„Ditch the pipe," Watson ordered, standing up himself.

Holmes did and Watson started preparing the injection. „As you can see," he said when Holmes was standing next to him, „the consistency of the vaccine is rather dense." He carefully shook the vial for emphasis. "Plus it needs to be injected deep into a muscle so I – unfortunately – cannot do it myself. And since I know that you have some experience in handling syringes and the fact that it is your fault I need it in the first place, I hoped you would render assistance." The syringe finally ready, he handed it over to Holmes.

Holmes didn't miss a beat. „So what you're attempting to say is, this goes into you backside." Holmes did not try very hard to conceal his amusement.

Watson felt himself flush. „Yes, Holmes, into my gluteus maximus and I was assured it will hurt considerably so I'd rather we'd get it over with." As per usual his glare fell flat on his friend.

Holmes shrugged, feigning innocence. „I'm not the one who isn't ready."

Watson exhaled noisily and removed first his waistcoat and vest before lowering his suspenders. He was very aware of Holmes scrutinizing him when he opened his trousers and turned so he was facing the desk. „There's alcohol and a swap." He pointed to his injection kit resting on the table next to him.

He saw Holmes reach for the items and swiftly pushed down his trousers and undergarments just so the upper half of his buttocks was exposed. Bending over, Watson smelled the alcohol as Holmes opened the bottle.

„Left or right, Watson?"

„Oh, that is an uncharacteristically stupid question from you, Holmes. Right side, of course! Or did you want to see me limping on both si--- ah!" Watson gasped; Holmes had already slid the needle in.

„All the way in," Watson managed.

„It is." Holmes replied and Watson had time to nod before the intense burning sensation of the liquid being pushed in began. The acquaintance from whom he had acquired the vaccine had not been lying about it being painful.

„Any gentility you could muster would be greatly appreciated," Watson said through gritted teeth.

„I assure you I'm as gentle as can be expected. Does it hurt?"

„Yes! And you're enjoying this!"

„Not as much as you would be enjoying it were our roles reversed," Holmes answered suggestively.

„The difference being that you have these kinds of things coming seeing how carelessly you play with your own---" Watson caught his breath as the pain became even worse.

„Sorry, there, old boy. My thumb slipped."

„Please, Holmes. No more." Watson hardly registered that he was almost begging but apparently Holmes did.

„Easy, Watson. We're nearly done," Holmes said kindly and withdrew the needle only a few moments later. He dabbed at the injection site with the alcohol swap. „See? That wasn't so bad." He helped Watson pulling his trousers back up.

„I beg to differ. That was easily the most painful injection I ever had to endure," Watson said and turned back around. He gingerly rubbed his sore backside.

„Figure of speech. And I can assure you that in the future I will pay extra attention to not getting bit by any wild beasts now that I know that the treatment for such an occasion is so thoroughly unpleasant."

„I can't help but think it wasn't quite as unpleasant for you." Watson accused, making a point of glancing at Holmes' crotch, where he was sure he saw a distinct bulge.

Holmes snatched a newspaper up from the floor and quickly sat down in a chair. „I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." He unfolded the paper, effectively hiding all the evidence to the contrary.

Watson snorted. „The day of my revenge will come, Holmes." He picked up his bag and opened the door to leave.

„I can't wait," Holmes murmured softly but his friend was already out the door.

T

H

End


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